


Dancing lessons

by WannabeCreativeAuthor



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Movie Night, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2048898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WannabeCreativeAuthor/pseuds/WannabeCreativeAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dancing Arthur all alone on the plane with his captain makes for a very amusing scene. At least Douglas thinks so...<br/>I began this story before series four came out, so no Theresa</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I already posted this story on fanfiction.net under the same title

It was a noise as if a cat was dying a slow and cruel death, crying out its pain at the top of its lungs.Martin nearly scratched a big line through the report he was writing.

Everyone else had left, or at least he had thought so. What could cause such a noise?

Now that he listened more closely it sounded like someone was _singing_.

He got up from his seat and opened the cockpit-door. The singing got louder and he could make out some words:

_"I am the one and only,_

_nobody I´d rather be._

_I am the one and only,_

_you can´t take that away from me."_

He knew that song, but the tunes were horribly wrong. He walked through the galley, pulled the curtain to the side, and there was Arthur, singing and dancing along the aisle between the seats. Swinging a cloth in his hand, with which he was probably meant to clean the headlockers.

He stood with his back to him, headphones plucked in his ears. His steps were rather graceful, Martin had to admit. He blushed immediately for thinking such a thing. But it was true, Arthurs hip rolled naturally with the moves. He made a little turn - and stopped as he noticed Martin. He smiled his bright Arthur-smile and popped out his headphones.

"Hey Skip, I didn't know you were still here."

"Oh... I was just finishing a report.", Martin replied, trying not to show that he had been looking at Arthurs hips.

"Um... and what are you doing?"

"Mum wants me to clean the lockers.", Arthur said, still smiling.

"Yeah, I see... does that require singing, too?", Martin hadn't wanted it to sound as nasty as it did when the words left his mouth, he just wasn't very good with them. Words, that was.

"Oh, I'm sorry Skip, I'll shut up now.", Arthur looked worried.

"No, no!", Martin pedaled back "It's fine... I just..."

"OK, then I can practice some more.", Arthur beamed at him.

"Practice?", the ginger man looked at the steward in surprise. "What are you practicing? Cleaning lockers?"

"No, Skip!", he laughed a bit "I'm taking a dance class, and I still don't quite get that one turn."

He did a few steps, turned on his heel, but tumbled widways. Martin had to catch him or he would've crashed into a row of seats. Arthur just smiled up at him "See? Happens every time."

"Uh... yes.", the captain replied, feeling a bit funny at having the other man so close to him. Not that he would've been more comfortable with anyone else, socially awkward as he was.

"Sounds like fun then.", he continued.

"It's brilliant Skip!", the younger steward burst out.

"Thought so.", Martin murmured, grinning a bit at Arthurs favourite adjective that seemed to fit every occasion.

"Do you want to come with me? It would be loads of fun!", Arthur suggested enthusiastically.

"Err... I don't think that's a very good idea...", Martin stuttered "you see, you might not expect that from me, but... when it comes to athletics I'm rather... well, let's say not very gifted."

He could hear Douglas' sarcastic comment as clear in his head as if he was standing right beside him. Arthur just grinned.

"Doesn't matter, I´m not very good either, but it's really fun."

"No, Arthur, I'd rather not..."

"Oh please, Skip! Then I'll actually have someone to train with. Mops don´t make good dancing-partners you know.", he gestured towards a bucket and scrubber behind him.

"Please?"

"I don't know...", Martin furiously searched his mind for an excuse.

"But I can teach you some steps, it's not that hard, see, even _I_ can do it."

The other man couldn't say anything against the logic of that sentence.

"Come on", and with that Arthur shoved him towards the galley. It wasn't the best place to attempt ballroom dancing, but certainly better than the aisle.

"So, then let's see if I have anything matching...", Arthur begann scrolling on his mp3-player.

"Ah, this one's good!" He gave one of the earplugs to Martin, who didn't even have time to protest.

"Foxtrot is one of the easiest, you know.", the steward continued.

"So now put your left hand here.", Arthur took Martins hand in his own and placed it on his right arm. The captain blushed from head to toe. What an odd situation. The two of them in an empty plane, standing so close together...

The other man didn't seem to notice, but then again it was Arthur. Then the steward put his right hand on Martins left shoulder blade and grabbed his right hand with his own left.

"That's the basic position.", he stated. The now very red-faced man only nodded. Arthur put on the music and showed him where to put his feet. At first their moves were a bit stiff due to Martin feeling a little insecure, but he soon got the hang of it. Arthur had been right, it wasn't that hard. Still he was a little embarrassed at the situation, and the song didn't help either. It was "Fly me to the moon".

Martin was a bit surprised. He hadn't had Arthur down as a Sinatra-fan, since the same man had given a passionate karaoke-version of "Wannabe" from the spice-girls over the intercom last friday. He still couldn´t get _"Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want, So tell me what you want, what you really really want_ " in Arthurs high-pitched voice out of his head.

The steward had taken the lead and Martin was quite comfortable with that. That way he could concentrate on not showing just how nervous all of that, whatever that was, made him. Physical contact always made him uneasy, and now his stomach also started doing funny things. Arthur was so close to him that he could smell the soap-odour of his uniform and something else that faintly reminded him of... jelly babies?

The song faded out and they stopped. Standing in the middle of the galley, arms still in position. Neither of them said a word. Which was unusual because Arthur normally chattered away as he liked. A new song started. " _You raise me up_ " sung by Josh Groban. Now Martin really started to question Arthurs taste in music.

They looked at eachother. Arthur smiled lightly

"You did really well Skipper." Martin didn't know how to respond. He could only think of how close they stood... so close. His heart pounded way too fast.

"Oh, I hope I didn't _disturb_ you."

Martin jumped. All of a sudden Douglas was there, leaning against the doorframe, smiling smugly. The captain hurriedly moved away from the steward. Turning an even darker shade of red, if that was actually possible.

Arthur just said "Oh, hi Douglas.", seemingly not embarrassed at all.

"We... we were just...", Martin began stuttering

"Arthur is taking a dance class. I finished my report. And... and...", again the words escaped him.

"And I'll go now!", he finally managed to say. With that he fled the scene, leaving his unfinished report behind.

The first officer and the steward looked after him, one grinning like a wolf, the other with a somewhat puzzled expression on his face. This would be interesting, thought Douglas, _very_ interesting indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

When he arrived on time the next day for their flight to Dortmund, Douglas greeted him with that same wolf-like grin he had worn the day before.

As much as Martin loved flying, on this day he just wanted to turn around and leave. Hide in his attic-flat until the embarrassment didn't feel as suffocating anymore. How did he always manage to get himself in situations like that? Well, actually this time it had been Arthurs fault. But still...

He had lain awake for hours, replaying the event over and over in his head. In the end his brain had been a mere mess of confusion, eventually falling asleep, producing most obscure dreams of rows of little aeroplanes doing the rumba.

Luckily today's flight wasn't very long, about two hours altogether. He could probably handle two hours of teasing. But then again it was Douglas... Oh God, this would surely be hell! And he should be proven correct. It seemed like Douglas had spent the entire last evening thinking up all different kinds of Dance-movie-jokes he could knock off occasionally for the pure sake of annoying Martin.

When they did their walkround to check if GERTI still possessed all of her wings, he claimed that the captain seemed rather ` _footloose_ ´. This was followed by a whistled version of " _Time of my life_ ". And that was just the beginning. When they got back on the plane, Arthur had arrived. He greeted them in his usual cheery manner, grinning especially bright at Martin, but the captain might have only imagined it.

He immediately stiffened when he saw the young steward, quickly looking away. His heart made a little skip. This flight was going to become a challenge.

The only passengers were five german business-men, going home from an international meeting of some sort. Martin was just happy that now all their concentration was needed for takeoff, but as soon as they had reached their altitude Douglas started a conversation again.

"You look quite tired today Martin, do you feel ill?"

A bit puzzled by such a question, he answered "I´m fine... thanks Douglas." Maybe the flight wouldn't be as bad after all.

But when Douglas replied, he knew he had fallen into the trap again.

"Oh, but Martin you should take care, there is a nasty fever going round. Now, when I take a closer look at you, it seems to me like you're showing some symptoms. Tell me, have you ever heard about ` _Nightfever, nightfever_ ´?", he sung the last two words.

"Yeah, right. I should've expected that one.", said the captain wearily. The rest of the flight went on like that, only interrupted by Arthur bringing them coffee, which resulted in another awkward situation.

Martin was just glad that he didn't spill his coffee on the instruments. Why the hell did he feel so nervous? After all, it was just good old Arthur. He had always liked him - as a friend. Martin had never considered anything else, not with the cheery, a bit naive steward. But the way he had felt yesterday while dancing with him...

Could it be that he was attracted to Arthur Shappey?

Douglas watched him from the side, grinning like a cat. Surely he would know. Douglas always knew what was going on. Splendid!

Surprisingly he didn't waste a word on the matter and just carried on with the dancing-jokes. Martin found this a little suspicious, but he was glad that he didn't have to talk about his emotional state to Douglas.

They had just begun a new game, one of Douglas' impromptu creations he had knocked up when he finally tired of teasing Martin, when Arthur came in again.

"Hey chaps, what are you doing?"

"Running sentence with movies from A to Z.", Douglas answered.

"So far we have `Alice in Wonderland, becoming Jane, captured...´ and now it's Martin's turn with a D"

The captain had been distracted by the stewards entrance and now frantically looked for an answer. "D...de...da...uhm..."

"Despicable me!"

That had been Arthur.

Both captain and first officer looked at him.

"Uh...", Martin began.

"It's a film-title. `Despicable me´.", Arthur replied smiling.

"Oh..." the captain turned even redder, he had been about to say that Arthur wasn't in the least bit despicable, but actually very nice.

"`Alice in Wonderland, becoming Jane, captured despicable me.´ A little odd, but it works I suppose. I'm afraid this film escaped me though.", Douglas said dryly.

"It's an animation. I saw it at the cinema, it was brilliant!"

"Do tell. Say Martin, do you happen to have seen this seemingly brilliant piece of cinematic grandeur?", Douglas asked, an undertone in his voice that told Martin he was clearly up to something.

"No...", the ginger pilot answered, trying to figure out what Douglas was planning.

"Oh what a _pity_ that both of us missed it, I'm sure it's terrific, if not marvelous.", Douglas voice was suspiciously non-sarcastic.

Arthur didn't seem to care - or notice, because he said

"I have it on DVD, I could -" He couldn't get any further because the first officer already cried out

"Oh what a lucky coincidence! Don't you think so Martin?" Now even Arthur looked a bit confused.

"Well...", Martin stuttered, but Douglas was already interrupting again.

"Then maybe we could all watch the movie together, what do you guys think?"

Arthur seemed quite enthusiastic and readily agreed

"Brilliant! You can come over to our house, mum won't mind, then I can make popcorn, and I found this new brand of crisps with barbecue flavour, it will be great!"

"Then it is agreed. We just need a day. Martin, is there a time this week when `Icarus Removals´ is not on duty?"

"Uhm... I guess saturday evening would be fine...", Martin was still on the lookout for the catch, there had to be one.

"Saturday's good", the steward agreed "Mum is going out with Herc, so we can sit in the living-room."

"Oh what a shame!", exclaimed the first officer

"I promised my daughter to visit the zoo with her on saturday."

"We can find another -", Arthur tried, but was once more cut off brutally.

"But I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun without me. Just tell me the story of the film afterwards." he smiled smugly. Then, as if he had timed it, the `ding´ , that signaled one of the passengers either had a complaint or wanted something, sounded.

"Oh, sorry chaps, gotta go. Skip, come over at eight, OK?", and with that the energetic steward was out of the door. The flight deck was quiet again.

After several minutes Martin broke the silence

"So... what was that about?"

"I got you a date.", the older first officer replied casually, as if it was a perfectly normal thing to say.

"You... _what_?"

"No need to thank me, just spare me the details afterwards.", Douglas said dryly.

"But how did you... what...I... it's...", Martin attempted, not even knowing what he wanted to say.

"Oh come on.", the first officer rolled his eyes "You two are no sphinxes, it's not that hard to guess your feelings. In fact I'm not even surprised."

The captain didn't know how to reply, so he just didn't say anything. But after a while a thought crossed his mind.

"Douglas?" his voice was so small it was nearly inaudible.

"Yes?"

"Don't you... mind?", Martins voice trembled a little.

"Mind what?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about."

"Why should I?", came the bold answer. "I'm just a little disappointed at myself that I just found out now. You might remember that I tend to know things."

"I guess I'm a good actor." A snort from the first officer was the answer.

"Well, if I think about it, I really thought you were intersted in Linda, the pilot we flew to newcastle..."

"Yes, I was."

Douglas raised an eyebrow "Oh, going for both, are we? All those opportunities and you're still single? Now that's amazing."

The captain made a face at him and blushed a bit. He wasn't very comfortable talking about his love-life to Douglas of all people.

"And you really don't care?", he still felt insecure.

"Martin, I've been married three times now. So you really can't claim I'm a stickler for traditional values. You and Arthur can do whatever the hell you want. Just do me a favour and don't mess up this time! "

For a few minutes there was silence again, the only noise to be heard that from the engine.

"Thanks."

The first officer nodded, pretending not to notice the tears in the captains' eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

When the workday had ended on friday evening, Arthur had left with a cheery "See you tomorrow Skip!"

Waking up on saturday morning, Martin had a lump in his throat that resisted to go away for the whole day. His thoughts kept on drifting to the upcoming evening, which made work considerably harder.

He had to carry a cupboard from Fitton to Hounslow. Not a very big job, so he had the afternoon off. Not the very best thing to happen, he found out as he nearly burnt himself with boiling tea-water because his thoughts had been elsewhere.

Before he went off to the Shappeys' house, he changed his clothes three times, finally settling on a plain shirt, jeans and jacket. He wasn't even sure this was a proper date, so in case Douglas had gotten it wrong, he didn't want to dress up too much. (Not that he even owned fancy clothes.) That way he could always pretend it was just a normal movie-night between friends.

He needed a full five minutes to bring himself to ring the doorbell, and when he finally managed to do so, he had the sudden urge to turn around and run as fast as he could. Though that plan was ruined by a smiling Arthur, opening the door, and loudly proclaiming

"Hey Skip! Come on in, the popcorn is nearly done." The house was quite big, Martin wondered how many rooms it had. He hesitantly followed Arthur to the kitchen, already smelling the sweet flavour of slightly burned popcorn.

While the steward was busy getting the bag out of the microwave and pouring its content into a large green plastic bowl, Martin noticed that he had never seen Arthur in normal clothes before. Jeans suited him quite well, as did the open ruby shirt, showing the plain black T-shirt underneath. His hair also looked a bit different, seemed like he had put styling gel in it. All that was topped off with a pair of colourful striped socks. Martin smiled, that was so Arthur.

His thoughts were interrupted by the subject of his musings, asking him if he wanted anything to drink.

"Uh, yes. What do you have?"

"I found this brilliant beer with pineapple-flavour, isn't it great how many things there are with pineapple-flavour? You want to try it?" Arthur seemed very enthusiastic, like he always did when he had found something new and brilliant. And that happened quite often. Just as Martin wanted to agree, although the thought of sticky sweet tropical beer didn't excite him much, he remembered his van outside.

"Sorry Arthur, I can't. I have to drive later."

"You don't need to, Skip. You can stay over.", the steward replied casually while fumbling for two bottles in the fridge. Martin suddenly felt as if it had just gotten about ten times hotter in the room. Naturally Arthur hadn't meant what was now racing through Martins mind, but still he couldn't shake the thought.

"So, what do you say? We have a nice guestroom.", the other man said, handing him the beer. The captain did a little cough so his voice wouldn't make that sound Douglas endlessly teased him about. Still his voice was a little wonky when he spoke.

"Err... I don't know Arthur..." The steward looked very disappointed, an expression Martin had last seen on him when Carolyn had turned down the offer to fly a whole circus to Belarus. ("No dear, our plane is just too small for ten acrobats, fifteen workers, five fire-breathers and a clown. And we wouldn't have carried the elephants anyway.")

"Oh... OK.", he put the bottle back in the fridge.

"So what do you want to drink then? We've got lemonade, pineapple juice, water and cola." Martin was a little surprised at how quickly Arthur had let the subject drop. Usually he would beg and claim it would be great when he wanted something, like seeing the polar bears when they had flown the people from "Unbeaten Track".

"Um, lemonade please." Arthur handed him a glass, picked up the green bowl and gestured to the kitchen door.

"Let's go to the living room then." His mood seemed to have gone down a little, unusual for the otherwise enthusiastic steward. Surely he had thought they'd have a pyjama-party and play video-games or something along these lines. How could Martin ever have thought that this could possibly be a date? Arthur had probably never even thought about him in that way.

Come to think of it, how would Douglas even know if Arthur was gay, or bi like himself? He was so used to Douglas always being right that he hadn't even wasted a second thought on the matter.

Stupid! That's what he was, utterly stupid. He sighed inwardly. Another hopeless disaster to add to the list.

He followed the other man into the vast living-room. The sofa looked a little shabby but comfy, and the small table was already stacked with snacks that would last a whole army. He grinned a bit. Arthur always tended to go overboard with these kind of things.

The steward was already busy trying to figure out how to get the DVD to start, pressing buttons and frantically looking for the remote control. Eventually he found it, on top of the television.

The movie started, and Arthur let himself slump into the sofa on which Martin was already sitting, clutching his glass of lemonade.

"You'll like it, Skip, it's a brilliant movie.", the other man smiled at him, now more his cheery self again.

"Hmm", the captain replied. He would just try to get through the evening without embarrassing himself, drive home and forget about all this. Like he had always done.


	4. Chapter 4

Surprisingly Arthur had been right, "Despicable Me" wasn't bad at all. Well OK, it was a kid's movie, but it had some funny parts.

Martin found himself relaxing more and more, chuckling along with Arthur, who, despite having watched the film three or four times already, still roared with laughter at every gag.

The two hours just flew by while the two of them were so engrossed in the movie, that when the screen went black and the end credits rolled, they sat in nearly complete darkness. Martin blinked and looked over to Arthur who was still smiling at the Happy End, his face only illuminated by the white names hovering over the television, making it look like they were underwater, just below the surface where the sunlight drew wavey patterns on everything.

The steward turned his head to face the pilot, still smiling. Martin expected Arthur to say something, but to his surprise the taller man kept quiet.

Their eyes met for a few seconds, then the captain hastily looked away. Arthur reached for the remote and turned off the TV. Now it was even darker in the vast living-room.

"So, did you like it?", the steward spoke much more quietly than he usually did.

"Yes", Martin answered in an equally hushed voice "but why are you whispering?"

"I don't know", he replied "It just feels right, it being so dark in here, you know?" A typical Arthur thing to say, but this time Martin knew exactly what he meant. One single loud noise, and the atmosphere would be gone.

He nodded.

"I should probably put the light on", the taller man whispered after a while.

"Yes...", Martin said slowly, although it was the last thing he wanted.

He saw Arthur's silhouette getting up from the sofa, moving around the table in front of them. For a moment he tumbled, and the captain thought he might fall right into the mountain of food, but he caught himself and reached the small lamp on the windowsill. It bathed the room in orange light.

Neither of them seemed sure of what to do, now that the reason Martin had come here was done.

"Sooo...", the pilot stretched the word while he flexed his hands. Should he just leave now? It didn't seem right, but what else did you do on a movie-night besides watching a movie?

Arthur shuffled back to the sofa

"Looks like I made a bit too much.", he said, now in his normal tone again, gesturing towards all the barely touched snacks.

"Thought we would be hungrier." The ginger man nodded again.

"You can take some home if you like", the steward proposed "mum always tells me not to waste food."

Martin looked at the table suspiciously. Some of the bowls contained dishes he wasn't familiar with, and he strongly assumed they were examples of Arthur's enthusiastic disregard for traditional cookery. Nonetheless he thanked the taller man, who immediately grabbed a few of the plates and pots and vanished into the kitchen. The pilot followed him like an awkward dog with the rest of the feast.

It took Arthur only a quick movement of the hand to produce an arsenal of tupperware containers, already neatly labeled in his bold handwriting. Happily he began spooning a mushy substance into a blue bowl, which smelled a lot like carrot but looked nothing like it.

"I had so much fun cooking all of this.", he exclaimed "I love cooking for others!"

Martin smiled. Though he was often clumsy, Arthur always tried to care for people. It was one of his best qualities.

To avoid blatantly staring at the steward, and the way his huge brown eyes glowed under the kitchen light..., he attempted some smalltalk.

"So... how is your dance class going?"

"Brilliant! We're doing some advanced stuff now."

"Oh?"

"Yeah..." Arthur was unusually hesitant.

"Would you... like to show me?"

"Really Skip?", the tall man's expression was one of unsuppressed joy.

"Yes, really Arthur.", Martin chuckled. The spoon landed in the sink as Arthur whizzed out of the kitchen into the living-room, sometimes sliding on his socked feet on the wooden floor.

A high sideboard revealed a big CD-player. Searching through the discs, the tall man apparently found what he had been looking for. But as he pressed the power button, aggressive e-guitar strumming and screaming came out of the machine in an ear-shattering intensity.

Arthur quickly turned down the volume and explained"Sorry Skip, mum likes loud music when she does stuff round the house."

The captain didn't know what to do with this information so he just nodded and waited for the other man to change the CD. After a few seconds the room was filled with soft pianos and violins, a classical piece Martin assumed. It sounded nice.

Like he had done on the plane, Arthur grabbed his hands and put them in position.

"This is a waltz."

Martin had distant memories of his mother teaching him the steps when he had been about twelve.

"And if you never learn any other dance, the least you need to be able to do is a waltz.", she had said. But she had only showed him how to lead, now that Arthur was in the lead he relied on the taller man to show him where to put his feet.

The first few minutes Martin looked down concentrated, counting. When he felt surer he looked up into Arthur's smiling face. There they were again, those beaming eyes.

"Ready?", the smiling man asked.

"Mhhm", the ginger man answered, too sunken into the experience.

The tall man let go, did a few side-steps, a turn, and then slipped back into position. Martin was genuinely impressed.

"Wow Arthur, that was...", and for lack of a better word, he said "brilliant!"

"Thanks Skip" If Arthur's grin got any wider, his face would split in half, the smaller man thought. He had the strange feeling they stood a bit tighter together than before, their chests pressed against each other. The steward's warmth ran through Martin's body, he felt so soft that the ginger man had the sudden urge to lay his head on the taller man's shoulder. Arthur wasn't exactly chubby, just... cuddly, and warm, and there was this faint smell of jelly babies again.

The captain blushed slightly.

They danced for a few minutes, carried by the soft music, while Martin's heart pounded along in 3/4 time.

When the song faded out they did an extra turn.

And then Arthur dipped him.

He held him with sure hands, like he had never done anything else in his life. For a second the captain was so shocked that he could just stare. Then his awkwardness kicked in, and he flinched at the unexpected sensation, which caused him to let go of Arthur's upper body which then resulted in the taller man not being able to support him and both of them tumbling to the ground.

Puzzled and embarrassed they looked at each other.

"Arthur, I'm so sorry...", Martin began, but the steward just burst into laughter. Infected by that, the captain joined him. They tried to untangle their legs to get up but failed because they were laughing too hard. It took them several minutes to calm down.

Outside the motor of a car could be heard.

"Oh", Arthur remarked, still giggling "Mum's back early" The fact didn't seem to bother the steward, but Martin let out a distressed "What?!", and frantically scrambled to a standing position.

Arthur got up as well, a little confused at the captain's panic. Both of them looked a little disheveled but there was no time to fix that, as a key could already be heard in the lock of the front door.

"Arthur, I'm home.", Carolyn's distinct voice came from the hall.

"We're in the living-room", he shouted back over the music.

Martin felt all colour drain from his face. It wasn't that he was _afraid_ of Carolyn, well at least not very much, but he feared her reaction towards the... situation.

The sound of heels on wooden floor, and then she stood in the doorway, her eyes fixing first Martin, then Arthur, and then the sparsely lit room.

"Martin?", she asked, her face one big confusion "what are you doing here?"

"Mum!", Arthur cut in "I told you we were having a movie night."

"You said you were going to watch a film with _someone_ , not that it was our _supreme commander_.", her sarcasm didn't sound as natural as usual.

"I didn't think it was important. Is it important?", Arthur wore his oh-no-I-probably-did-something-wrong-face.

"No...no, it's not...", Carolyn looked bewildered.

Awkward silence.

"I, uh... I was leaving anyway.", Martin stammered, hastily moving into the hall.

"Thanks for everything, Arthur..."

"Skip, wait, don't forget the food.", the steward vanished into the kitchen. Carolyn still looked at the pilot, an unreadable expression on her face.

Arthur came back with a leaning tower of plastic containers, which he then carefully gave to Martin.

"You don't have to go, Skip...", he began, but Martin mumbled something about having to get up early (despite it being saturday) and shuffled to the door.

"Thanks again, OK, um...bye.", and with that the captain once again fled the scene.


	5. Chapter 5

Sunday morning came, and with it a horrible dread. As soon as Martin opened his eyes, the events of last night flooded back. He groaned loudly.   
Why always him? Why couldn't things be easy for him just once?   
What should he do now? He couldn't go to work on monday! He could never go to work again! He would need to find a new job. The panic in him rose. He loved his job!   
What had Arthur told Carolyn after he had gone, he wondered. What had actually happened? He wasn't really sure about it himself, but thinking about it didn't seem like an enjoyable task.  
He didn't want to get up, just lie there and slip into unconciousness again. But his stomach had other ideas. So he went to the kitchenette and peered into the small refrigerator. A half empty bottle of ketchup and a quarter of a week-old loaf of white bread. A sigh escaped his throat.   
Then he remembered the stack of tupperware. Opening them all, he looked for something remotely edible. A box of tiny rolls didn't seem that bad, they had a swirl of something purple on top, and smelled like lavender. Biting into it, he prepared himself for something disgusting, but surprsingly they weren't so bad. Not sweet like he had expected, but very much OK.  
He found a creamy substance that went quite well with them. Martin hadn't got the faintest idea how Arthur had managed to make strawberries into something savoury, but in his current situation he didn't care. Was the steward getting better at cooking, or were the captains' tastebuds already so damaged from the constant exposure to his experiments that he couldn't tell the difference anymore?  
Martin smiled faintly. Arthur would be so pleased to see that someone was actually enjoying something he made.  
'Don't mess it up', Douglas had said. Sometimes it was chilling how well the first Officer could predict his every step. Nonetheless he had made a big old mess of things.  
Well actually it wasn't him who did it, but everything around him always seemed to conspire to make him a laughing stock no matter what he did.  
What would have happened had Carolyn not come back so early?  
Even thinking about it made him blush.  
To prevent spiralling further down the trail of panic-inducing thought, he spent the rest of the day reading. The local library didn't have many books on aviation and most of them he had read before, but it was calming to skim through the photos of different aeroplanes and read a passage here or there.  
It was already getting dark outside when there was a knock on the door. Probably one of the students from the flats below him, he thought, getting up from his comfortable position. Maybe they had run out of sugar or flour, or they wanted to warn him about a very noisy party that was about to happen. Some of them were polite enough to do so.  
He opened the door, not expecting to see a very familiar looking steward behind it. "Arthur?", he asked, knowing the answer very well.  
"Hello Skip", Arthur smiled.  
"Um... hi", Martin felt the blush from yesterday creep up his neck again. After a moment he remembered his manners, stepped aside and gestured for Arthur to enter the small flat. "Come on in... uh... what can I do for you?" Had that come out the right way? No, focus Martin focus.   
Arthur had made a few steps into the room and was looking around wide-eyed.  
"I've never been in here before.", he observed "We always pick you up outside."  
Yes, and for a good reason, Martin thought. He didn't want his colleagues to see that what he called a 'flat' was barely more than an attic room with a scrappy kitchen. And he hadn't even tidied up. Some clothes lay scattered around and the bed was rumpled.  
He dug his hands deep into his pockets in an attempt to appear less awkward, but to no avail.  
Arthur wandered over to a low shelf. "Wow, that looks great! Did you build it yourself?", he pointed towards a small model of a Curtiss JN-7H.  
Martin nodded "Yes, when I was little."  
If Douglas were here, Martin thought, he would have made fun of that statement. But Arthur just said "Brilliant! I wish Gerti was a double decker. And red. And maybe had a propeller."  
Martin couldn't help but smile.  
Arthur found a lot of nice words for his humble collection of furniture and decor, and only fifty percent of them were 'brilliant'. When he was done with that, in absence of chairs, both men sat down on the bed.  
"So...", Martin started again "what brings you here?"  
They were facing each other at an angle, both perched on the same edge of the bed, knees almost touching.  
"Well...", Arthur fiddled with the sleeve-ends of his jumper "I had a talk with mum..."  
Martin's blood temporarily froze in his veins. Arthur seemed nervous, which was never a good sign.  
"... and she told me to go talk to you. Actually she said 'go sort this out for Christ's sake or you will drive me completely insane', but that's basically the same don't you think? And Douglas said I shouldn't be worried, it will all work out fine, but I don't know, I'm a bit scared...", he was rambling now, looking at Martin wide-eyed.  
"Arthur, Arthur!", placing a hand on the other man's shoulder he tried to interrupt him. It worked.  
"What is it? What are you scared of?"  
Arthur looked at him for a moment, thinking. Then he quietly replied "This."  
Before Martin could even phrase a question in his head, enquiring what 'this' meant, he felt Arthur's mouth crash on his. Apparently the steward had slightly misjudged the force with which he flung himself at Martin, so they toppled over sideways onto the bed.  
"I'm so sorry Skip, I-", but before he could finish the sentence, Martin had pulled him in for a real kiss. Arthur's lips were incredibly soft, and he felt a glowing warmth spread through his body. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, it felt so good to hold him close. Meanwhile Arthur's hands played with the hair at the nape of Martin's neck. It was a long and sweet kiss, and when they stopped to catch their breath, Martin felt like he had been woken from a dream. It was surreal, Arthur's face just inches from his, smiling at him like he was the sun. Martin could just imagine his own goofy grin. He was giddy and at the same time more calm than he had felt in a long time. For a while they didn't speak, none of them daring to spoil the moment by sound. They just lay there, fingers laced together, hearts pounding.


End file.
